


Creeps

by QuinnCliff



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMF John, Creepy Sherlock, Dark Sherlock, Fear, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Mythological Elements, POV John Watson, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sherlock, Sexual Content, Supernatural Elements, Teen John, Teen John Watson, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinnCliff/pseuds/QuinnCliff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John can't sleep well at night. And he's about to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> Hi fandom (; 
> 
> This is something I was thinking at night, some feelings and sensations in this story are quite real to me actually.  
> I hope you enjoy it, and sorry in advance for any English mistakes. 
> 
> Thanks!

      He certainly knew something was off, he could feel it somehow every night. Only at night. During the day nothing would bother him, routine was as boring as usual, but safe. It was when the skies have gone dark and the house had gone quiet that John could feel it. And in that night he felt it stronger than ever.

      He was all curled up under the blankets, trying to keep the cold and odd sensation away. Usually he could manage to sleep – though it always took about half an hour to do so – and he only wakes up in the morning, with everything okay. But not that night. No, that night was special; somehow he could feel it and he didn’t even know why.

     The windows were closed but John thought he heard the wind come in. It was like a whisper, a soft timbre. It started near the north walls but came down to his hear. In a blink of an eye John covered his face with the blankets and shut his eyes so closed it almost hurt. His breathing was erratic and his heart couldn’t beat faster. The whisper stayed right behind his left hear for some seconds that looked like eternity and John was shivering so much he made the bed tremble a bit. It was an agony that he had never ever felt before. It was like the whisper was chuckling, he could almost feel the smirk. He felt mocked, humiliated and vulnerable. So freaking vulnerable. But he couldn’t really understand what it was saying to him, he was so scared.

    When the voice went away John could think clearly for some minutes, he was very aware of all the sweating dropping down his brows but he couldn’t care right now, all he wanted was to get out of bed, run to his parent’s room and explain the whole thing, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t move, he was like a melting ice berg, all wet and frozen. When he finally found the courage to open his eyes and uncover his face, he only saw his bedroom calm and quiet and apparently normal. He took two deep breaths and tried to pretend it was all just in his mind.

    For one hour he could drift away, his body relaxed and he let the blankets slip to his waist. He even dreamed a little about something casual like girls or school, it appeared his night was going to be alright after all. No. Not even close. John was dragged away from his sleep by what felt like a big and slender hand on his ankle. He opened his eyes and dropped his jaw panting like crazy. He looked down at his legs and found nothing. Maybe it was part of the dream, he let himself think. But he would found out soon it wasn’t. That wind again, no, not wind, but the whisper. He was too still to find strength to cover his face again so he just stared at the blue walls. He waited and waited but the whisper stayed away from his body.

    He relaxed a bit and closed his eyes trying to keep his heart calm. Maybe he would have been able to do it if the sudden pressure that he felt over his body weren’t there. It was like he was being pressed against his bed in a very rough way. He could almost feel a body on top of his own. A long and thin body. But he couldn’t really see anything. What was happening? He tried to scream but his mouth wouldn’t open. He was at the mercy of this thing, this… Monster? Spectrum? Spirit? He had no idea.

                “You can call me Sherlock.”       


	2. Onyx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes darkness has a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!  
> I want to thank everybody who commented and gave kudos! It definetely inspired me to go on! (;
> 
> So, this chapter may be a little confusing, but I assure you it will all be clearer in the next chapters, okay?
> 
> Sorry about any English mistakes.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

    Oh that wasn’t a whisper. Oh no, John could clearly hear a voice. And not just any voice. It was the most beautiful and terrifying sound he had ever heard. Soft but rough, gentle but rude, gorgeous but horrible. He felt he could almost touch it. When actually _it_ was touching him. Sherlock, was that the name the voice said? What was that supposed to mean? John was so petrified and scared he couldn’t even think right, he wouldn’t pass out though. No, that would be too sweet and the voi- Sherlock, wouldn’t let him do such thing.

    They were the only thoughts that came to John’s disturbed mind. And it was like the creature could see what he was thinking because in that moment he felt the pressure go away. He breathed relieved for some seconds until it came back stronger. John could have let out a great scream but he couldn’t emit a single sound. And then it withdrew again. But now he could see it. Everything was dark but he could perceive a shadow that was pure black and it has some kind of glow, like onyx. Like a big slab of precious stone all above John’s fragile body. It felt cold. And John could see it turned shape, it was shifting into some other form.

    It hovered some inches above John so he could observe every single detail of its transformation. From shadow to stone. From stone to liquid. From liquid to man. Could it be human? It surely wasn’t, but that was its form then. The onyx did not seem as solid as before, it looked pretty much liquid and it kept transforming. First John could see something like legs and arms and then a head. _What the fu--?_   _I must be dreaming. I need to be bloody dreaming!_ But he knew he wasn’t. And the form now had human features. It was like a sculpture made of black marble. No, no. Onyx. _What are you? Why me?_

    “I have existed from the morning of the world and I shall exist until the last star falls from the night. Although I have taken the form of Sherlock Holmes, I am all men as I am no man and therefore I am a God.”

    John forgot how to breathe as soon as the voice spoke to him and those almond grey eyes – that were closed until there- stared right through his soul. And it shifted again, but now the onyx was turning to beautiful quartz in some parts. Like skin. The transformation was complete now, John realized. And the male body above him was astonishing, it was a _he_ then. John felt something had changed because he could feel some kind of warmth coming from _him_. It was neither stone nor liquid. It was human flesh, or at least a very good disguise of it. Then he was sure. Sherlock fell down on top of him, and John was surprised to found out that it didn’t hurt like before, it was… Reassuring. But scary, definitely scary and horrible. The teen was so confused he let out a nervous whimper. And then he realized he could move and speak again. Oh my.

    “I… You…”

    What was he supposed to say? He should scream, he should shout out so loud the whole neighborhood would hear. But he didn’t want to. That pale face was staring him so close. John’s body was pressed between Sherlock’s and the bed, and he was sweating and panting hard. The man slowly moved his right hand – like it was getting used to it – and touched John’s forehead. John shut his eyes expecting pain and cold, but all that came was normal fingertips, not hot or cold. He opened his eyes to found out a pair of concerned grey ones over scrutinizing his face. Sherlock’s fingers followed his eyes while it travelled around the boy’s brows, eyelids, nose, lips and jaw.

    “What are you?” Sherlock asked, which was extremely ironic.

    “J-John…”, he managed to say but was cut off by the taller man’s baritone voice.

    “John Watson, seventeen. Dreams to be a doctor, it’s terrified of spiders and elephants. Favorite color is blue, favorite word is cinnamon. Plays rugby, rides an old bike and has a very exhausting boring life.”

    “How did y-you…?”

    “That was just the tip of the iceberg. I know everything about you, John. Everything that has to know and everything that will have to know”, he closed his eyes and touched his nose on John’s cheek. John could feel some strange shivering going through his body, and it was different from before. It was almost… Comforting.

    “Why me?”, he panted. Was he really talking to a God? _I mean, do I really have a God on top of my body during this most-than-odd night? What is going on here?_

    “Why not you? You are not human. You cannot be. No human would have caught my full attention like this, no human could possibly fascinate me like this, no human could make me want to touch and get near like this. I _need_ to know what you are, John Watson. I need to know why your light is brighter, why you stand out amongst all.”

    “I’m just… Me. I don’t understand. Where do you come from?” John asked weakly, he felt his body betraying him, wanting to fall asleep like it was all fine.

   “I come from everywhere but anywhere. Where light cannot reach. _Could not_ reach. But then you appeared to me, so beautiful with your ocean eyes and sandy hair. What are you, John Watson? Why did you come to me?”

    That made no sense at all to John.

   “You came to me. I was… Here, just here. I never did anything, I do—“ he was shut by weird and soft lips on his. It lasted some seconds, but it was enough to make John gasp.

   Suddenly Sherlock pulled away and fell onto the floor. He realized that where the onyx had been on his body now was covered with some dark cloth, and it was all over the floor tangled between the man’s limbs. Sherlock looked startled and angry. He stood up and John could not help to back away a little against the wall next to his bed.

    “How dare you be like this? I am a giant; I am your worst agony. What are you?!”

    And before John could answer the man simply took John by his wrists and put the boy on his feet. John really felt the grasp and it almost hurt enough for him to shout, but Sherlock was faster. Covered the boy’s mouth and dragged him into an awkward hug. Before John could pull away though he felt them both spinning so fast, so dizzy. He closed his eyes and unwittingly hid his face on the man’s lean chest. He heard lightening and thunders and wondered if he was going to be drowned by the storm he could feel around him. Ah no.

    “Here we are”, Sherlock said pulling away just enough so the boy could look around.

    John’s eyes opened and he was shocked and marveled. It took a while to his vision to get used to the darkness but when it did…

    “W-Where are we?” He asked, voice trembling.

    “Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first sentence Sherlock speaks is actually from Caligula (1979, Tinto Brass). Of course that obviously instead of Sherlock Holmes, he says "Gaius Caligula". I just thought it fit perfectly well with this dark!sherlock and I'd like to honor this polemic movie that have inspired to write about the human psyche in some works (not necessarily in this one though).
> 
> Thanks for reading and comments are very welcome! (;


	3. The Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns somethings are better not told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Thanks again for the comments/kudos/bookmarks! You have no idea how that cheer me up! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one! (;

  A dungeon? John could only associate that place with somewhere like that seen in medieval movies. It was dark, illuminated only by torches; cold too, but most likely to the proximity to the coast. John knew that because he could smell the salt coming from the sea through the small protected windows. _Home_ was the only thing Sherlock said to him while he was there, after that he just went away through a big wooden door. So John was left deducing things by himself and he wasn’t very good at it. At least he was sure they were in Earth and not in any other spiritual plans or wherever. _Oh my._

  Why him? Sherlock kept asking what was he, but the true question was who/what exactly was Sherlock. Did he really live there? What was he going to do with John? Was John something not human? No, no. He knew he was human, actually he always saw himself as the most normal boy ever. So what was going on? And why wasn’t he so terrified anymore? He felt more fear in his bedroom than here. Maybe it was because now he knew what/who was after him. Shouldn’t this leave him more afraid? He thought it was actually _nice_ to have a turn in his routine for a change. _What? I am not thinking this is nice. No, it’s rather the opposite._ But it wasn’t, was it? It was thrilling and exciting. And though he feared for his life he also felt more alive than ever.

  Five hours – or something around that – had passed since they arrived and John was alone sitting in what should be a bed but looked more like a huge bathtub made of stone with some crimson pillows and blankets inside, they looked like made of silk and the contrast with the whole place was unnerving. John was also starving and thirsty. Did Sherlock forget him? No, he wouldn’t do that. Not after that entire scene in his bedroom. Was all that only five hours ago?

  Suddenly then John heard the door open and Sherlock came with one plate in one hand and a silver goblet in the other. John stood up and didn’t back away, he decided he wasn’t going to play the damsel in distress. He was a strong boy. Sherlock let what he was carrying on the round table near the west wall.

  “I thought you’d be hungry”, Sherlock said sitting on one of the two chairs near the table. He waited for John to do the same.

  John didn’t know if the food was indeed that good or if it was his hunger but he devoured the whole thing. It was some kind of meat with smash potatoes and salad, all well done; with some orange juice. How did Sherlock find it? How was he able to bring him this kind of food? It just didn’t fit the place and the circumstances at all. John cleaned his mouth with his pajama sleeves and really didn’t care that he wasn’t being polite. _I mean, I am being held prisioner by some sort of god of darkness._

  “What are you, John Watson?” Sherlock asked with _that_ voice.

  John kept his silence, just staring at him.

  “I will tell you what we are going to do here.”

  He suddenly stood up and slowly walked to John. John kept staring ahead, didn’t dare to move his head but also didn’t want to look terrified, though he really wasn’t that much. It’s just that… Sherlock gave him chills all over his spine. His voice, his lean pale but strong body, his cold grey eyes, his dark curls that looked really soft and touchable. John blinked to stop all these thoughts and could feel Sherlock’s presence behind him. His waist touching John’s shoulder slightly.

  “I want you, John. And I need to find out why.” John felt his breath near his neck and froze. “Here I’ll be able to analyze you. To know every single inch of your body and soul. I want to learn you and I also want to teach you.” Sherlock put his nose on the top of John’s head and the boy could feel him smelling there. “I want to become you and I want you to become me. I desire your light and you will have my darkness.” Then he kissed John’s hair. “And when I finally find out what you really are, John Watson, I will consume you. For that it shouldn't be anyone or anything able to cause this much trouble in my being. Do you understand?” John felt Sherlock’s lips brushing behind his ears. “You are mine now, and the only way for you to go away is if we are both dead. And I can assure you, that won’t happen.”

  And then John could only see a large dark shape leaving the room, as quickly as he arrived. Just like that. And John was all alone again with too much to think. Way too much. _Why me? What have I done? How did he find me? Why, with so many people in world, it has to be me?_ John knew his questions were not going to be easily answered and he was going to find out all by himself while this crazy _creature_ did whatever he wanted with John. When he thought about that, two things happened to his body: he shivered and fought the tears rising to his eyes; had some kind of excitement that could be really similar to arousal, which didn’t make any sense. Maybe it was just his stupid body being in defensive mode.

  John walked and lay down on his new bed. He pulled some blankets on top of him and rested his head on one of the pillows. He was startled at first when he heard the storm. But he realized that it was friendly, it was something he could connect with, something that reminded him of home. He closed his eyes and slept listening to the beautiful talk of lightening and thunder. It was the best sleep he had ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, comments are very welcome (;


	4. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time a dark existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!
> 
> So, two things to say before the story:
> 
> 1 - Thank you again for the comments and kudos, they make me incredibly happy and excited to write more!
> 
> 2 - This chapter is special, it will be the only one with Sherlock's POV. It is more to explain things, to know how things got to that point. So, it doesn't add too much to the story except for the whole mythology behind Sherlock's decisions.
> 
> And as usual, excuse my Ensligh mistakes.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it! (;

   His name was not Sherlock. He wasn’t even a _he_. He had no form. He was just… There. He watched the universe rise and would probably see it setting down. He felt nothing. He had no desires, no fears, and no hates. He observed. He was present in the dark tunnels, in the shadows beneath the old oak trees, in the cloudy rainy days, in each scared little thought, in each nightmare, in the most torrid moments where people give up. He knew everything. He could tell where one would break; he sensed how deep they would drown into sorrow. Until John Watson.

   That little blonde tanned boy came outta nowhere. Sherlock knew his home just like he knew all the others and he _thought_ he knew that his family would sink into sadness soon enough. He was circling them, observing closely like he always did when darkness shone stronger upon a certain place. John’s mother took too many pills, John’s father was an unfaithful drunk man, John’s sister was a bulimic stoned girl. The shadow above their house was so large and tangible Sherlock could grin only by staring at it. Waiting. And he waited. He took care of other things around but never forgot this one, he kept waiting. He was something like confused for the first time in his existence. He had never waited that long.

   That was when he saw the boy. He hasn’t seen him before. That was impossible, that could not happen. Sherlock saw _everything_. He had to adjust his eyes to be able to see John. And he was almost blind with all the _light_. So bright. So terrifying. Sherlock didn’t know what was going on in his being, he was… Mad, surprised, hurt, angry? He couldn’t understand because he had never _ever_ felt any of those things. And then he started to observe the boy. Only the boy. For the first time he was analyzing something that was not darkness. No, it was quite the opposite. That’s when he realized that he understood _why_ John’s family hadn’t succumbed to him. It was because of John himself. His light, his striking power. That boy was _something else_. It didn’t take long for him to know everything about John. The problem was that what he knew was merely physical. Deducible things that any sharper mind could perceive. He was rather frustrated to not know that the boy thought, where did the boy get all his light, what _was_ he.

   He couldn’t focus on anything else. John had really messed him up. So he decided to get near him. Really near him. His dark bedroom at night was like a playground to Sherlock, he amused himself watching the young sleep. He thought he would be able to read his dreams, to see what he feared, what were his weaknesses through his sleepy face. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t learn anything he didn’t knew already. And he was becoming angrier and desperate. He realized he needed to _touch_ this human. So he did.

   Sherlock Holmes was born like Athena: from a thought, all wise and perfect. And half-god. He always thought that if he wanted he could become anything. But he despised the idea of becoming one of these fragile creatures. And as though he wasn’t completely human, he felt some really earthlings things. He longed for John. He could feel his warmth and it triggered some hidden feelings inside him that he couldn’t quite comprehend. So he dragged the boy to himself. He still was part shadow and even though some of his powers were limited he still could move wherever he wanted, so he chosen an abandoned city near the shore. A castle full of his old being, pretty much like him. Dark and hollow. And a place with high indices of storms.

   What would be better to represent John and Sherlock than storms? Sherlock was the dense grey clouds, full of rage ready to rain down upon lives. And John was the lightening and thunders. He fought Sherlock, he warned people about the rain, he was bright and strong, lethal if needed. They were so different and yet so equal. They completed each other somehow, and Sherlock needed to know _why_. He needed to have John, to figure him out. And then, then he would either come to what he once was _or_ he’d be destructed for good.


	5. The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Battle not with monsters lest ye become a monster; and if you gaze into the abyss the abyss gazes into you." - Friedrich Nietzsche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people (;
> 
> Thank you for the kudos! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one!

   John smiled. He felt tickles on his feet soles and it was great, the touch was like feather, barely there but so real. After, he felt like rising, his body was floating in the air, not like falling, no, more like soaring, being carried away by a good and smooth tide. And then it stopped, he was now sit on something soft but steady. John was feeling relaxed with that sensation of not knowing if you’re awake or sleeping, that moment when you just couldn’t care less about the world because it feels too damn lazy and comfortable there. But these moments go away, and John’s just ran as fast as they came, he first realized it when felt something like sunshine touching his shoulder. He opened his eyes and started panting involuntarily.

   He found himself indeed sit, but it was no sweet thing. Oh no, he was on the chair near the wooden table. And he was chained to the wall of stones behind him. Very strong iron chains around his neck, feet and hands. All well securely attached to the wall. It took a moment for John to recover from this realization and then he could see Sherlock. He was standing right in front of him holding a small version of the torches that were stuck to the walls. And oh – he was glaring at John.

   “Finally, otherwise I’d just wake you up myself”, Sherlock hissed with that voice John both feared and admired.

   “Wha-what are you going to do?” John asked trying to stop his body from shivering.

   “I’m going to know more about you, John” he grinned and John’s mouth parted, breathing hard.

   “I’ll t-tell you everything y-you want to know! Don’t hurt me, p-please!” He hated that he had to beg for this creature, but he had no choice.

   “That won’t do. Because, you see, it’s proven – by me, a thousand of times – that people are more inclined to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth if they feel themselves in great danger, in great… Pain.” He spoke that last word with a pop in his plump lips and John could not help but whimper about it. “It will be three steps, John. This will be the first, and if I must say, the easiest one.”

 _Three steps? The first one? The easiest one?_ John was trying so hard to be brave, to be strong, to face it all with his head up and eyes ahead. But there, all chained, wearing nothing but his pants and with a wild beast smirking right in front of him, John could do nothing but to let the tears fall. That was when his vision was all blurred and he felt his cheeks and nose hot, his hands wet and his entire body squirming. It was so overwhelming that he almost didn’t notice when Sherlock backed away from him.

   John thought he saw Sherlock’s mouth open in ‘O’ and his eyes were narrowing, not in a suspicious way, but in a frightening one. John blinked fast so he could see better, since he couldn’t use his hands. And he caught Sherlock looking above John’s head, his eyes moving from side to side and he stepped away a little more. John looked up but couldn’t see anything. But something inside him changed when he stared at Sherlock again. The man was still with that shocked look on his face and didn’t dare to get near John. The boy’s body stopped twisting and his heart started to come back to normal, his breath was calmer. John suddenly felt warmer, stronger, and even lighter. His tears were drying and now he could glare at Sherlock as he should.

   “Looks like you saw a monster. And still, I can’t see any mirrors around”, John said and later he’d say he had no idea where all this courage came from.

   “What are you?” Sherlock said and with a gesture of his hand all the chains opened up and fell to the floor, John stood free.

   “The human that made you step away.”

   With a stunned look in his eyes, Sherlock made his way out the room, leaving John alone once more. The boy then felt wrecked, exhausted. What just happened? Did John just faced danger and got away with it? The warmth that took control of him fell away slowly and he collapsed into the bed of pillows where he had been sleeping for the past few days. How many days? Most of the time he was all by himself, it was like Sherlock was testing him somehow. And, what about then? What would Sherlock do to him now? He wasn’t sure if he would be so brave to stand against him again.

_"What am I?”_


	6. The Fortress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's better than some fresh air?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there people!
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and support! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> (;

   John didn’t get any visit from Sherlock for the past five days. The only things he saw from the man was his pale hands delivering the food through the door and putting a basket full of water with a piece of what seemed like soap, sometimes fresh clothes. This was all driving John mad. He was not a lonely boy, he had friends, he used to spend most of his time at school doing extra activities, playing rugby, snogging girls, having a good time with mates. He actually preferred outside than home, which usually was chaos. So being excluded from the world, kidnapped, arrested, almost tortured, were not things he was used to. He gave a wide grin thinking about it. Maybe he was getting crazy.

   He just walked around the dungeon, sometimes singing, sometimes counting stones, sometimes saying nothing and sometimes controlling the tears that threatened to fall down. He just wanted all of this to end, by death or whatever. In the circumstances he really didn’t give a damn. Anything was better than that.

   He was lying in the so called bed with his eyes closed when he heard the door open. It didn’t fuss him because he was expecting the food and that’s it. But a few minutes later he could feel cold hands touching one of his foot soles. Abruptly John just kicked the air and curled his body as far away from Sherlock as possible in the pile of pads and blankets. The taller man just sit on the border and looked down, not wanting to meet the boy’s eyes apparently. He was wearing a black suit and his hair was the most combed John has ever seen. What’s up?

   “John… Would you like to go outside?” Sherlock asked lower than usual.

   John hesitated for a moment. _Is this a trap? Why would he ask this? I really need a good time away from this place but what if it’s just worse outside? What if it’s just a plan to torture me?_ Oh, I’ll take the leap. Who never ventured nothing gained.

   “Oh god, yes”, he said climbing out of bed and standing near the man who also stood.

   “Hold me then.”

   John frowned but he understood why he was asked to do this. They’d probably teleport or whatever that magic was. He didn’t let himself think too much and just hold the man’s waist, resting his hands’ palms in Sherlock’s back and burying his face on the man’s chest.

   “Close your eyes now”, he heard Sherlock whispering next to his ear.

    And then winds later they were in open air.

   John could feel the salty breeze hit his skin even before opening his eyes, and when he did it was marvelous. Great grey skies with so many stormy clouds that looked infinite. They were really high, when John looked down he could see the enormous stoned cliff and then it was all sea. Beautiful angry dark blue ocean. He couldn’t help a fascinated sigh. He let go of Sherlock and turned away. _Oh man_. What he saw just blew his mind. They were just in the heart of a stupendous fortress. It looked so _omnipotent_.  

   “I want to show you something”, Sherlock sad behind him suddenly.

   John was feeling like a child that got a huge Lego castle for Christmas and was crazy to build, rebuild and explore. So he just followed Sherlock with a sheepish smile on his tired face. Was only after a few minutes that he realized they were heading to the woods. John watched the taller tower disappearing from his vision and being replaced by thick old green trees.

   “Where are we going?” he asked turning his head to look forward again and finally noticing he was alone. “Sherlock?”

   He gave other steps and stopped by a tree. “Sherlock?!” he screamed. He just turned his head for some seconds to look at the tower failing down and then the creature was gone. Was this all planned or Sherlock just went away to do something but would come back? John decided to sit down and wait for some time, if he tried to move inside the woods he’d probably get lost and then he’d go mad.

   Half an hour passed by and the few parts of the sky he could see were all stars. _Oh screw that._ The boy stood up and decided to follow the track from where they came, maybe he could arrive at the fortress again. Maybe. He couldn’t know though that only a few steps ahead he would encounter three black glowing shadows that stood out from all the other dark things around. It was like Sherlock’s shadow in that night that looked so far away in his memory. The feelings were all the same too: mockery and humiliation. John didn’t dare to move until the shadows surround him, chuckling and whispering terrible, oh so terrible things right next his ears.

_“Is mommy going to wake up tomorrow?”_

_“Daddy sure loves the cold tread in his face.”_

_“No, it wasn’t the dog, this was just Harry puking her guts out.”_

   John clenched his teeth and fisted his hands, glazing red eyes to the creatures.

_That’s it. Enough is enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how the Fortress would look like: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KDcxemHI6tE/TbR_9C4pcEI/AAAAAAAAAHo/x5kReIiNir0/s1600/costa%2Bbrava.jpg


	7. The Glow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much you truly know yourself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again!
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos! They make me extremely glad!
> 
> So, I'm sorry this chapter is smaller than usual, but I promise the next one is going to be bigger, okay?
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! (;

   The warm feeling John had when Sherlock was about to torture him some nights ago was nothing compared to what he was experiencing now. He was fairly aware of his entire body getting so hot and his guts swelling so much that for a second he thought he was about to explode. But he didn’t, oh no, he only got hotter. It was not overwhelming like last time because now John felt in control, or at least as much in control as he could. He was afraid at first, then scared, and then he was angry. He knew something like that would probably happen like last time but he couldn’t possibly know it was going to be so stronger.

   The shadows were still around, surrounding him with their creepy presence, but they were not smirking anymore, John was not feeling the mockery and humiliation. He wasn’t feeling anything at all coming from them, it was like they stopped to look at him, astounding. And his body just kept growing and getting heated and heated. Until John realized that his feet were off the ground and his arms were up like in a surrender way. But there would be no surrender that night.

   He snapped his neck back and opened his mouth as if to scream, but no sound came. Instead there was light. Blinding light. John wasn’t sure where it was coming from till he looked at his own torso and saw it. He was _glowing_. Not sparkling, not merely shining. No, he was radiating energy and light. He felt something really chilling running down his spine that made his back arch forward and then John could feel. He had fire wings, or at least that’s the image John could associate with. Suddenly the candescent light turned to orange and his whole body was on fire. But it didn’t hurt. Quite the opposite, he felt powerful and fearless. And good, oh so good.

   The shadows let out a loud shriek that sounded like many pigs being chopped at the same time, and then they were gone. John’s body took some time to come back to normal, and when it did he fell down to the floor exhausted and feeling cold. His entire body shivered onto the earthy wood’s ground. He closed his eyes and seemed as the world was going on circles in his mind, everything was confusing and desperate. Suddenly though, he felt two familiar long arms grabbing him out of the ground.

   “Shh, it’s okay now. I got you. I know what you are. And it’s… Fascinating”, was the last thing he heard before falling asleep.

   When John woke up he felt something strange on his side. It was like a warm and heavy blanket covering his back. He blinked his eyes some times to cast dizziness away and slowly turned his head. What he found made his mouth open wide with surprise. Sherlock Holmes was sleeping tangled with John’s body, and he seemed almost peaceful.

   “Not sleeping, John. Just waiting for you to wake up”, Sherlock suddenly said with his eyes still closed.

   John knew he should back away, should stand and throw something at Sherlock, damn, maybe scream or… But he just stayed there. Sherlock didn’t make him feel insecure, afraid or humiliated like those things out there, or even like the first time Sherlock appeared to him. No, things now were changed, and John wasn’t sure why.

   “Why?” the boy swallowed hard and then continue, “Why did you let me there alone? Those things… Tho-…”

   “I was there the whole time, John. Who do you think was controlling those shadows?”

   “Why would you do that?” now John felt the strength to at least sit away from Sherlock’s embrace. The man then had his eyes opened.

   “To see what you would do, obviously John. I knew that if I put you in some kind of disturbing situation you would find your way out reveling who you truly are. And… After that little demonstration some nights ago I had an idea, but what I saw tonight was so much more that I expected”, Sherlock leaned his hand to touch John’s blushed cheek, “You are beautiful, John. And I’m afraid I can’t let you go now.”


	8. The Dagger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth does hurt.  
> A bit.  
> No, not really. It hurts a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again everyone!
> 
> First of all, thank you all for the kudos, bookmarks and comment! 
> 
> Second, you definetely helped my inspiration, 'cause I wrote a lot today! This chapter was supposed to explain what John is, but then the whole thing got so big and I decided to divide it in two chapters. So, sorry if you were expecting to know in this one, but I think you won't regret. I hope so haha The other chapter is already ready so I'll give you some time to think about this one and then I'll post it later, don't hate me! Suspense is the soul of business. ;x
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Forgive any English mistakes, sometimes I'm overexcited and mess up a little, but I hope there's not too many problems.
> 
> ;*

   “You said that once you figured out what I am, you would consume me. Now you say you can’t let me go. What’s gonna happen?” the boy managed to spill these words out in one single breath.

   “The word consume is open for many interpretations, John. And I intend to enjoy every single one. You cannot go anywhere and you would not want to when I tell you what kind of creature you are”, Sherlock sat down beside him, with a funny grin in his pale face.

   “Creature? I… How can I be feeling this now? I mean, all the seventeen years I’ve existed I never felt this, I was just a normal teen. I don’t know why now.” John looked at the grey ceiling and could feel some tears wanting to get out, but he kept them in.

   “It has been sleeping inside you all this time. It’s awake now because you finally met other fantastic creature such as yourself. Me.”

   “Fantastic? Like mythological creatures? That’s… That’s not possible, they are legends and myths”, John said looking at Sherlock that looked quite amused.

   “Legends are lessons, they ring with truths”, Sherlock spoke and get a little bit closer to John, “You need to understand, John, the world is not so plain and simple as you – and everybody else – might think. It’s true that most of the beasts and creatures of my time are no longer alive, they were destroyed, extinct, and they live now on the pages of mythology books and movies”, Sherlock looked down for a moment as if remembering something.

   “You mean that mermaids, ghouls, fairies, giants and all these mythological monsters are or were real?” John frowned, not quite believing it yet.

   “Fairies, John? So many creatures and you thought about fairies? And no, some of these monsters were created by humans to fright humans, but indeed some were quite real. The few left are hidden and they are not as strong as they used to be”, Sherlock now stared right through John, he felt himself blushing.

   “Can you prove?”

   “John, honestly, haven’t you been paying any attention of what’s going on the past month? What am I? Just the guy next door?” Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed a little annoyed.

   “No, I mean… You are clearly something else, but believing in those other stories is just… Weird. It’s denying everything I’ve learned my entire life.”

   John was not religious, but he thought there was something out there though he wasn’t sure what. And when Sherlock popped up in his life he was pretty sure that there was something, but he never quite stopped to think about it like he should, he never had the guts to admit that his concept of world was gone, but and then he realized he was also some kind of a different thing. His mind wants desperately to associate all of this with chemical and physical reactions, but he knew that’s not possible anymore. Analyzing everything that’s been happening John seemed to comprehend how wrong everyone has been assuming they were unique.

   Sherlock didn’t say anything, it was like he knew John was considering and would eventually speak something.

   “Okay. I see. We are like these creatures, then? Okay. It’s… No, it’s not okay”, the blonde boy put his hands on his face and tried to breathe right.

   “Like I told you before, John, I am here since the beginning. I am - like the Greeks used to say - _Chaos_. I’m the permanent shadow above the universe, the origin of many dark stories. I had many names and many faces, but no one ever fit me like this. Sherlock Holmes. And I didn’t understand why, but now I do. It’s because of you, John. For the first time in my existence I feel like I found a home. A place in which my mind can rest, where I can just close my eyes and listen to your sleepy sounds. You changed me, John, and it wasn’t only because of your true nature. Though that was what caught my eye for the first time”, the older being now looked at John with shinning eyes, he reached his left hand and touched John’s hair. The boy didn’t move.

   “And what am I, Sherlock? Please, tell me”, was all John could say.

   Sherlock retracted his hands and got out the bed. He paced for some time in the small room with his fingers intertwined bellow his chin. John could see he was thinking hard, he almost could smell the smoke. And then he was on heels before the bed, next to John’s feet.

   “If I told you… You’d probably laugh even after everything you saw and was told. I myself took a while to accept what you are, since… I haven’t seen it for so long I thought they were extinguished as well”, he touched John’s thumb gently, it tickled.

   “I want to know, Sherlock”, John said with the softest tone he could use, then he pulled his foot away and got closer to the man, merely some inches far from his face.

   “I will have to show to you, then.”

   He stood up again and left the room, closing the wooden door. John got out of bed and folded his arms. What should he do? Sherlock would just leave him alone again or… Before he could have any ideas the man was back, and he hold a… Dagger? A very beautiful silver and golden peppered with rubies and sapphires, “What are you going to do with it? Sherlock…”

   The long men walked and stopped in front of John, with his free hand he touched John’s cheek and before John could blink their lips were touching, but it was so fast like the first time, John couldn’t help to want more instinctively, “Later John, now I need you to trust me. I know it’s a lot to ask considering… Well, everything. But will you?”

   John closed and opened his eyes, shaking his head and trying to breathe slowly, “Yes. Guess I don’t have much of a choice, right?”

   Sherlock gave him a sad smile and lift the dagger. John’s body was starting to react, he was feeling warm and he was sure that it would happen again, but it didn’t. It didn’t because Sherlock thrust the dagger right into his heart before he could even look down. And he did only in time to see the man taking it away from his body, leaving a track of blood behind. John’s body lost his strength and fell down to the cold floor. Sherlock didn’t catch him, instead he backed away. John’s vision started to get all blurry, his lips dried and his ears full of din, suddenly he couldn’t feel his body and then everything went black.

   The last thing he felt was his skin burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have any guesses? I can't tell you if they are correct, but you'll know soon enough! Guess tomorrow I'll post the chapter already, don't wanna make u all wait too much. (;
> 
> Btw, the line "Legends are lessons, they ring with truths" is from Brave (2012, Disney), I thought it fit so well, plus this is my favorite Disney movie ever, so. (;


	9. The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no light without darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> Thank you all for the comments/kudos/bookmarks, you have no idea what they mean to me!
> 
> Now you'll finally find out what John truly is, and I hope not to disappoint any of you!
> 
> Thanks for holding on, enjoy it ;*

   He died. He was pretty damn sure of that. Even when his eyes were still closed and his body was still numb he knew that for some minutes, hours, or maybe days, his body was dead. So when consciousness took over him again it was surprising, it hurt at first but then clarity appeared and John was coming back to life in fragments, piece by piece he was restoring himself. Until he could be aware of his limbs, his torso, his head, his entire organism. He didn’t dare to open his eyes yet, he was still trying to figure his body out. He moved a little bit of his fingers and pain came like a shock to him.

   “John? Are you there?” he heard the so familiar baritone voice so close to his ear, his tone was concerned.

   But John could not answer him, not yet. He didn’t know where to go, his mind was in the darkness yet, he was aware of his body and time, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Until he saw a light, maybe it was the famous white light at the end of the tunnel. It was not white though, it was orange and a bit purple, John realized it was coming closer to him. Closer, closer. Then the confused boy could distinguish a bird. A big bird, with great wings and wonderful colors. John stood his arms and the bird grabbed him. After that was all a loud peep.

   Grey. John could see grey and took a while for him to comprehend he was staring at the dungeon’s ceiling. He had his eyes open. He had finally woken up.

   “John? Are you okay? What are you feeling?” Sherlock spoke beside him.

   John turned his head slowly, his body was aching. He opened his mouth to answer but only a weird gasp came out and he coughed. Sherlock shifted his body and put a glass of water next to the boy’s mouth. John drank a bit and then coughed more, then he drank bit more. It refreshed his mouth a little.

   “My bo-body h-hurts”, he managed to say, tears forming in his eyes.

   “I know, but the pain will go away soon”, Sherlock touched his cheeks and his forehead touched John’s. He felt cold.

   “H-how long?” he said before another cough crisis.

   “Three days. Faster than I thought. I’m sorry it hurts, but now you’ll believe me, John”, Sherlock stood up and went to get something on the table, a little glass jar that had something grey inside.

   John didn’t dare to ask, he just waited until Sherlock came back to sit beside him on the bed. John lifted his arm to scratch his nose and realized he was dressed with a wool blue blouse, he looked down and saw khaki slacks. He felt something warm in his chest with the thought of Sherlock dressing him while he was… Dead? But then again, Sherlock was the one who stabbed him.

   “Wh-at happened, Sh-sherlock? Why di-d you do it? And how…?” his weak voice sad broken.

   “I knew you would come back, John. Of course I knew it. But I needed you to know it too, and now you do. Look. You know what this is?” Sherlock showed the glass jar to John.

   “Look like… Ashes”, John said taking the glass in his hands and shaking it a little bit.

   “Indeed. Your ashes. This is your old body, John. The killed one. You reborn”, Sherlock had a cheerful smile on his face, that was the most human John has ever seen him.

   “My ashes?” John coughed, “O-old body… Did I… Did I reborn from the ashes? Like a…”

   “Phoenix”, Sherlock hold John’s face in his hands and kissed him the deepest way so far, then he let go.

   “You’re telling me I’m a Phoenix? Like… Fawkes, Dumbledore’s pet?” John’s eyes travelled around the other man’s face looking for tease, but he found only seriousness.

   “Well, you’re a bit more real”, Sherlock laughed, the sound filled John’s ears like a lullaby, “I know, it’s pretty fantastic. The phoenixes were gone so long ago, I could never imagine to find another one now.”

   “But… They are birds”, John remembered the bird in his dreams, but he also reminded the fire wings he had at the forest some days ago.

   “No, that’s what people think. The bird is only a form you can take. Usually they look like any humans. At the old days, everybody knew when phoenixes were born. The babies caught on fire the moment they first cry. The families used to give them to temples so they would be raised to do well, to represent their faith. They had full control of their powers, they could change to the bird form anytime they want, but they were also hunted. Because, you probably know, phoenix’s tears are healing”, Sherlock touched John lightly below his left eye, “They were gone before they could reach their golden age. It’s so incredible to find you now, John. And that explains why I haven’t seen you when I observed your family. Phoenixes are made of light, they are everything good combined. They represent immortality and hope.”

   “How can I be this? I…”, John couldn’t even speak properly, he was astounded.

   “You were adopted, weren’t you John?” John nodded, “You were found next to a trash can with your umbilical still attached to you. She probably had you in precarious circumstances, saw you on fire and left you right there. When they found you, your baby body was normal already. And since you grew up in such a human world, with nothing but ordinary things around you, your true self could never awake properly. Until I found you.”

   “Me… A phoenix. That’s… Ridiculous”, John said giggling, but it wasn’t a mock giggle, he was just… Bewildered. But he believed. How could he not? He was indeed a phoenix. It was like he knew it since ever but never quite understood it, never could bring himself to believe it. Why would he? He peered at Sherlock, “I am a phoenix”, he smiled fondly.

   “You are. The most beautiful one, John”, Sherlock took his hand and brought it to his lips, “I should kill you”, his breath touching John’s hand. The boy quivered and his eyes opened wide, “But I just can’t, John. You… You are a threat to me, I am darkness and you are light. We could never live together.”

   “What about when the other phoenixes lived…”

   “Who do you think put darkness above them? Who do you think gave the idea of the hunting? It was so easy, they didn’t even know”, Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment, “When I realized you were a phoenix I knew I should destroy you, John. But I can’t find any will to do it, I don’t want to lose you. I feel things now, things I never thought I could feel. It’s like my shadow part is fading away, and it’s scary! It should drive me mad, I should be desperate but I am rather… Relieved. Like I’m finally comprehending myself.”

   “I found out who I truly am, and you found out who you truly are”, John weakly grinned and squeeze Sherlock’s hand, “We helped each other.”

   Sherlock lied down next to John and extended his arm around John’s waist, “I cannot lose you, John. That’s all I can think about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say that I made out most of the things about the phoenixes, apart from the parts that we already know from the myths, of course. I needed to adapt to this universe. I'm going to explore more of this in the next chapters, I hope.


	10. The Red-Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody likes the touch of silk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody!
> 
> Thank you all for the comments and kudos! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, and sorry any mistakes!
> 
> ;*

   John thought a lot about his home. And the more he thought about it the more he realized that was never quite his home. A house only. Of course he loved his parents and his sister, and he knew they loved him in their own way, but they were so drowned in problems that they didn’t have time for John. The teen couldn’t remember when it was the last time someone actually stopped to hug him, kiss him, and nurture him just because. Not in a sexual way, no, that was not a problem, but even that didn’t suppressed the need for something more, the sensation of being taken care of. So John was really surprised when Sherlock just hugged him tight one night.

   The days passed fast after that night that changed his entire life and world. His relationship with Sherlock had changed big deal since too, the man only left the room to go pick up food, and to let John bath. They were even sleeping together, Sherlock behind him with his hands wrapped around John’s waist in a protective and possessive way that John found reassuring and very comfortable. John knew Sherlock couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t mind staying with John, just watching the boy drifting and slowly breathing, which John thought to be flattering. They were talking more too; John didn’t dare to ask about Sherlock’s business though, not yet. They talked more about John’s situation as a phoenix, what he could do, what he could not, but they never actually talked about the future.

   “I wish I could show you how your tears heal, but I can’t be physically hurt and I don’t feel like wounding you again”, he smiled, stopped and put John’s growing blonde hair behind his left hear, “But your tears can heal a deep wound in last than one minute, I’ve seen it happening before, it’s beautiful and frightened. At least for me…” he looked down for a moment, as if remembering his nature, but of course it was just an impression, John knew he couldn’t just forget it, “You can also lift things much heavier than you, like…”

   “A telly. Once when I was little, Harry and I were playing catch-up around the house and she tripped bumping on the telly that would fall down on her if I hadn’t grabbed it. And I didn’t understand at the time how I was holding it and putting it back at the place on the shelf so easily, like I was picking up a plastic toy. I never minded and forgot about it. After that there only two situations similar but not as strange. Even if they were, how could I imagine being… A phoenix?” John laughed.

   The night Sherlock hugged John, he had been crying. The man was entering the dungeon after some minutes out. John was sat with his hands on his face and sobbing frenetically. Sherlock suddenly was on his knees before him, pulling John’s hands away and cupping his face with his own, “What’s the matter, John?”

   “I-I am feeling… Good.”

   Then Sherlock held him tight against his lean body.  John loved the way their bodies fit so well, so he just hid his face on Sherlock’s chest and pressed his hands on his back with all the strength he had. There in their little world, John felt safe and he also felt powerful and confident, like he could finally think about himself and for himself. He hadn’t forgotten that Sherlock kidnapped him, dragged him to a dungeon, trapped him and all, but he also couldn’t forget that Sherlock helped him to discover his true nature, and not only that, also he could feel that Sherlock in all his darkness still found the will to open up for John, to care for him. To hug him.

   “I have a surprise for you”, Sherlock said taking John’s chin so he could look him in the eyes, “Come with me, let’s get out of here.”

   “You’re not going to drag me to the woods and cast your shadows on me, right?” John was teasing but his tone may have caused the wrong effect on the man.

   “I’m sorry about that, John. I follow Machiavelli’s line of thought: the end justifies the means. So I cannot promise you I won’t do such thing again, what I promise though is that I’ll never hurt you in vain. But don’t worry about that now, it’s a good thing I want to give to you.”

   That worked. John took his hand and followed him out of the dungeon with no regrets. They walked on the corridors, through the extremely high stone walls of the building. It was all dark except for the torch in Sherlock’s hands. John looked down and saw that the carpet was red, he tilted his eyes and could almost see some old paintings hanging there. When he stared at the ceiling he wasn’t able to see anything because of darkness, Sherlock realized his curiosity and said, “You can come and see it tomorrow with the day light, I’ll let you open up the windows.”

   “What about you?” John asked trying to hide his excitement. Looked like he was getting free pass through the whole place then.

   “I… Have to attend to some matters”, Sherlock’s voice was serious and not opened for questions.

   They walked for some more minutes and all the way John’s mind was trying to picture this place lighted up by the sun, and his stomach was going nuts when he realized that he would see it. Sherlock wouldn’t mind him exploring the castle, maybe he wouldn’t even be bothered if John went outside to look at the sea.

   Then they arrived at a really big door, Sherlock leaned and pressed a soft kiss to John’s forehead, “I hope you like it.”

   When the door opened, John didn’t like what he saw. No, he loved it. A really wide room decorated in golden and red, the colors of the Phoenix. All illuminated by various candles and one excluded lamp beside the bed that didn’t quite fit there. The walls were all wrapped in beautiful old wallpapers that had some ethereal aspect to it that John found fascinating. The carpet that covered the entire floor had the same effect but with some dark spots here and there, which reminded John of Sherlock. There were some paintings around the room, frames that represented Birth, the rising of something new, just like John. And then the bed. John had never seen such a big and beautiful bed before. It was mahogany made and the notches were carefully done, probably hundreds and hundreds of years ago. The sheets and curtains were dark red with some gold mixed with it.

   John couldn’t say anything for a moment, he just ran and jumped on the bed. It was soft and extremely comfortable. He spread all over it and leaned on his elbows to look at Sherlock who was still at the door, “Come here”, John called with a crooked smile. Sherlock bit his low lip and walked to the bed. He sat near where the small boy was lazily laying there. John reached and grabbed Sherlock’s hand, squeezing tight, “Would you kiss me here, Sherlock?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... I think it's about time to some smut in the next chapter! ;D
> 
> Btw, this is how I picture John's bedroom: http://cocamidemea.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/eastnor_castle_page33.jpg


	11. The Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ex·plo·sion (ĭk-splō′zhən)  
> n.  
> 1\. a. A release of mechanical, chemical, or nuclear energy in a sudden and often violent manner with the generation of high temperature and usually with the release of gases.
> 
> b. A violent bursting as a result of internal pressure.
> 
> c. The loud, sharp sound made as a result of either of these actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Thank you soooo much for all the kudos and comments! You make my day brighter! 
> 
> So, some things to say about this chapter:
> 
> -Sorry, but I had to change the rating to Explicit only because of this chapter.
> 
> -Yep, this one is basically smut time! Buuuut with some plot by the end of it, so if you're not into smut just skip to the last paragraphs.
> 
> -Forgive me if something sounds weird, I'm not used to write smut, but I needed to, 'cause our boys deserved it and it will help with the plot too. See, sex is life!
> 
> -Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to Nightfall24. Thank you for supporting me, and making that "deal" with me, it helped me finding my guts to write everything I wanted it. haha
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! (;

   Sherlock’s lips were cold when they touched John’s, but some seconds later they were as warm as they could be. When their tongues started to dance with each other, John’s entire body shivered and he felt all his blood settling in one specific point below his belly. Sherlock’s hands were on his neck and waist, his fingers brushing slightly on John’s blouse. John had his on Sherlock’s curls, he just couldn’t help touching them, they were so soft and felt so good on his greedy palms.

   “John”, Sherlock’s beautiful voice whispered when his lips slid to the boy’s ear, “May I undress you?”

   “Yes, please,” John panted.

   Sherlock lifted John’s body a little from the bed and slowly removed his blue blouse. John’s hair body prickled when the cool air touched his bare skin. Sherlock took some time observing John’s features, which made the boy slightly blush, “You’re so beautiful, John. So warm and full of light”, Sherlock peppered John’s stomach with kisses. The boy closed his eyes and drank the moment. He could feel Sherlock nuzzling the soft blonde hair below his navel and his body shivered a little bit. Sherlock unbuttoned his fly really fast and pulled his old trousers away. Now John was only on his pants, “I’ll make you feel good, John.”

   John nodded, biting his bottom lip anxiously. Of course he had already had sex before, but only with girls. And usually was something quick and unsentimental. No girl had taken their time to stop and admire John’s body like Sherlock was doing. John felt _worshipped._ Sherlock was above him now, completely. Kissing him tenderly, letting their tongues play along while he softly removed the boy’s pants. Sherlock didn’t feel like a shadow above him, though he was dressed just like the first night they met; the position was even pretty much alike. No, he felt like human. A man as lustful as John was at that moment.

   “You’re way too dressed, Sherlock”, John said breathless.

   Sherlock hesitated for a moment, but then stood and started to take off his shirt. He was really skilled with his hands and in a few seconds all of his clothes were thrown on the floor next to John’s. They were both bare and tangled on the bed, kissing each other with more passion this time. John arched his back a bit so he could touch Sherlock’s buttocks with his hands, he squeezed and felt Sherlock chuckle a bit on his mouth. _What a beautiful and plump arse_.

   Sherlock was now lapping and nipping at John’s neck, his hands fisted on the sheets. He couldn’t help a loud moan that came out of his mouth when he felt Sherlock’s teeth on his skin, it felt so bloody good. He knew he would stay with a purple mark later but didn’t give a flying fuck about it, “Sherlock”, he growled, voice full of lust and sentiment.

   “Anything, John. Anything you want, my phoenix”, Sherlock’s words made John’s erection leak pre-cum on the taller man’s stomach. He groaned, and John felt something wet on his own skin coming from Sherlock. He smiled.

   “I want you inside me, Sherlock. I want to feel everything you are inside my body. I want us to become one. A beautiful natural disaster”, John said brushing his nose on Sherlock’s soft curls.

   And then Sherlock was gone. For a brief moment John panicked, did he speak too much? Was Sherlock regretful? Oh no, there he was. The man grabbed something from under the bed, John tilted his head to see. Lube. _Lube?_

   “Sherlock, why did you keep lube under my bed?” John asked half serious half teasing.

   “I put here for you, really. In case you needed…” Sherlock seemed sincere.

   “Oh well, I don’t care, come here”, John grabbed him by his shoulder and kissed him deeply, taking the lube out of his hands and pouring the liquid into his hands, “I want you to watch me preparing myself for you.”

   Sherlock fell on his back and John straddled him. He lifted his body a bit and pressed one finger slowly inside his tight hole. He had done that before, out of curiosity. And now he wanted to see Sherlock watching him, he just felt like doing it. He wanted Sherlock to be nearly out of control when he took John. And it was working, his icy multicolor eyes were black and his mouth was opened, he was panting hard.

   John pressed a second finger and a deep sound came out of him when he moved them out and in, out and in, “It feels so good, Sherlock. Oh fuck… I love how you look at me.”

   Sherlock’s hands went down and he started to fondle his testicles very softly, as to relief himself without spoiling it for them, “Hurry John, I want to take you. I want to bury myself into you.”

   “Patience is a virtue, Sherlock…”, and he moaned loudly when he pressed a third finger inside. His hips were moving faster, up and down, rocking with his fingers, “Oh my… Okay, Sherlock. I can’t take it anymore, I’m ready. Take me.”

   Sherlock grabbed the bottle of lube and put some into his hands, spreading it on his cock. The noise it made was glorious, so wet, John removed his fingers before he lost control. Sherlock took John’s hips and John lined Sherlock’s cock with his stretched hole. And then he felt it. The tip of Sherlock’s cock head pressing inside him. He stayed in that position for a moment, getting familiar with the sensation. Fingers were something, a thick cock was another.

   “Okay, John?” Sherlock asked panting.

   “Oh yes, just… Getting used to it”, John said as he breathed hard, “Your cock is gorgeous, Sherlock. Just like all of you.”

   And then he slowly sat down on Sherlock’s thighs. It felt a bit uncomfortable; he thought he was going to be split in half, but when they started soft movements of hips, in and out, up and down, John felt fantastic, “Sherlock…”, he moaned, his body shaking while they moved.

   “Oh John, you feel so hot, so good… It’s like… You’re passing your heat to me… I’ve never felt this way”, Sherlock whispered as John rode him faster.

   John’s mind went dark as lust; the only sounds in the room were their gasping and sweat skin to skin contact. Faster and harder, “Oh Sherlock, I can’t take it… I need to come. Touch me, touch me please! Oh fuckfuckfuck.”

   Sherlock grabbed John’s incredibly hard cock and stroke him as fast as he could, he was losing control himself, John could clearly see – and feel, “Come John, come looking at me. I want to watch as your cock spray your warmness on me”, Sherlock’s hand was rougher on his throbbing member, and John almost lost control when he felt Sherlock coming hard inside of him, “JOHN!”

   The feeling of Sherlock’s cum inside him was indescribable, he rode him good for some more moments while Sherlock kept stroking him, even though now his head was fallen back on the pillow and his eyes closed. It was the first time John actually saw some color on Sherlock’s body; his pale face and chest were peppered with red and pink. And John felt proud, _he_ did that to Sherlock Holmes, lord of chaos. Thinking about it did the trick.

   John’s body felt hot, really hot. He knew he was coming when he felt Sherlock’s hand squeezed him harder, and their eyes met. His cum was spouting all over Sherlock’s stomach and hand. That was the last thing he saw before his eyes rolled back and he felt his body being lifted above the bed, abruptly pulled away from Sherlock’s cock. He couldn’t control anything, his arms were raised above his head and his entire body was on fire, when he finally focused his vision on something he perceived his face was really close to the ceiling. He was soaring, there was light everywhere around him and he felt his fire wings coming out of his back, then everything went red, orange and purple.

   John’s human body was gone. The Phoenix was free.


	12. The Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” - Albus Dumbledore (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, by J.K. Rowling)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I can't thank you enough for all the kudos and comments! They mean so much to me, so thank you again!
> 
> So, this is the penult chapter. Thank you all for bearing with me this long.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! ;*

   The bird flew across the large room, first in circles, then in triangles. His vision was amazing, so much better than the human one, and his body felt so powerful and yet so light. John could never imagine that flying felt so bloody good. But he looked like a phoenix in a cage going around the bedroom.

   “John! You’re so absolutely fantastic! I…” he could hear Sherlock’s deep voice below him, he looked astounded, “You can’t fly here though, it’s too small for you. I’ll open the door and… You need to turn right, then the second left, you’ll leave the castle. But, John, please. Come back to me.”

   John gave Sherlock a loud squeak, a way of saying he understood. The man then cleaned and dressed himself as fast as he could, John could see the top of his messy sweaty curls and he loved it. When Sherlock opened the door John didn’t even wait for it to be completely wide, he flew fast and high down the corridor. He followed Sherlock’s instructions and when he saw open air he was overwhelmed by freedom. He flew higher and higher. It felt so natural to do it like he’d done a thousand times before.

   Soon John realized that below him was all sea. The wild blue yonder. He squeaked out loud without caring who would listen, actually who would possibly listen to him here? He was so above everyone and everything; all his problems, uncertainties, insecurities, were all gone. It was only him in his pure form. In his mind he knew how he’s look like for human’s eyes: an enormous bird with red, golden and purple feathers. He could feel the fire on his wings, the lovely breeze touching his golden beak. John felt the urge to just be, nothing more, just fly away and be himself.

   But he couldn’t. He had Sherlock to take care now. Sherlock, who slowly was sliding now from his own darkness. The phoenix did that to him, John did that to him. The boy understood then, so entranced in this form, that his purpose in the world was to bring light and hope to everyone he could reach, the phoenix squeaked at this thought. And he also comprehended that he needed to start with Sherlock, that was quite his opposite and yet was his equal. If he could bring light to the man, he could bring light anywhere. Together they would try to make a better world, it’s the least wonderful creatures like them should do.

   The phoenix changed his way and turned around to come back to the fortress. He would have time to fly again, in the light of the day next time. Being in this form was sheer brightness, he didn’t feel tired or weird, he felt _perfect_. He wondered if it would be easy to change like this again, or if he would need an orgasm every time. Both ways seemed quite nice to John. When he arrived at the fortress he could see Sherlock waiting for him at the balcony; his pale skin bathed by the full moon. He looked so beautiful that John couldn’t help to let out a soft peep at the sight. The phoenix landed on the stoned surface next to where Sherlock was standing. The man looked at the bird a little apprehensive but with pride in his eyes. John leaned his feathered head to touch Sherlock’s bare shoulders, but at the slightly flourish the man jumped back a bit startled.

   “Sorry, John. You’re… Really hot”, he chuckled. John perceive he was trying to hide some jitters, but he wouldn’t give up. He wanted Sherlock to feel his heat like this, in this form, so he leaned again and this time Sherlock shivered but didn’t pull away. “It’s… It’s so…”

   Oh, he left Sherlock speechless. He made him come and speechless in one night, his life just kept getting better. His lover petted his head very lightly, his cold hands getting used to John’s warmth. The phoenix looked up to stare at Sherlock that appeared to be overwhelmed, the bird made a reassuring noise to let him know everything was okay.

   “I don’t deserve this, John. I don’t deserve… You”, Sherlock said with a broken voice and John could swear he saw tears forming in his eyes. Suddenly the boy wanted to change form so he could hug this beautiful being real tight. He tried to focus.

   It took more than he intended but he was slowly shifting back, the heat was fading and the fire was gone. His head was sandy blonde again and he had all his members. There, he looked down to himself and saw the so familiar teen body, as naked as a newborn. He smiled tenderly at Sherlock and grabbed him by the waist. He still felt warm and he wanted Sherlock to absorb it to him, like before. He kissed the man’s neck and all the other parts he could reach. Sherlock hold John to him as if wanting them to become one. John felt something liquid touching his hand that was resting on Sherlock’s chest. He lapped it, cold and salty.

   John tilted his head up and saw Sherlock’s face covered by tears. The boy tiptoed and kissed away every single tear that was falling down on his jaw, chin, and cheekbones. He felt so good peppering Sherlock’s freckled skin with his mouth, “See? You’re so much more than you think. You don’t need to be stuck forever in what you think it’s what you were meant to. You weren’t meant to anything. You’re free to be whatever you want, Sherlock. You can’t let your instincts define who you are”, John put his hands around the taller man’s neck, “It’s like Dumbledore said: ‘It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities’. Sheer truth, Sherlock.”

   “Oh John”, Sherlock kissed him deeply, their tongues doing their waltz John loved. Sherlock’s arms travelling up and down John’s naked torso, giving him nice chills. “I’ve existed for so long, I thought I knew everything. But then you came around, so young and so bright. You have no idea what you do to me, John. You’re saving me from myself; you’re showing me the way. You’re teaching me to _live_ ”, Sherlock gave soft kisses to the boy’s nose and cheeks then he smiled fondly, “Even when you quote Harry Potter.”

   John pouted, “It is a great quote from a great story, okay? I’ll have you reading the books and watching the movies in no time”, he shifted his head to bite Sherlock’s earlobe, “We’ll have time. It’s going to be beautiful, Sherlock.”

   “What will?” Sherlock asked almost in a whisper, brushing John’s hair with his fingertips.

   “Our lives together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I kinda like Harry Potter.  
> Okay, maybe I like it a lot.  
> Nope, I really love it! LOL


	13. The Rainbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's always darkest before the dawn."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi pies!
> 
> First of all, I'd like to thank you all, users and guests, it doesn't matter, we're all birds of a feather. The Sherlock Fandom is a beautiful thing, isn't it? You girls (and boys, though I've never seen one around, if you're a boy please show yourself) inspired and guided me through the whole trip, and I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I did. 
> 
> Second, forgive my grammar mistakes or any other kind of mistake, sometimes I get overexcited and mess things up, you know... But I really hope you are not disappointed with the end. Tell me what you think on the comments, please!
> 
> It's been a pleasure, may the Force be with you always! ;*

   Whatever dark business Sherlock had to attend the other morning he decided against it in favor of staying tangled with John all day. They were so warm, sweat and sticky, but they didn’t care at all. It was extremely new for the two of them these feelings and needs, not only towards each other but also towards the world itself. John was sure what he wanted to be, not only a doctor anymore, he wanted to be a better person, he wanted to use his powers as a phoenix to help as much as he could, not only because he felt obliged to do it, but mainly because he could be part of a new beginning, for him, for Sherlock, for humans. It might sound cheesy to want world peace and all the miss universe talk, but that was not John’s point. He just wanted everybody to feel… At home.

   “I’m sorry”, Sherlock said nuzzling John’s grown hair.

   John didn’t answer, he thought it was better to let the man continue.

  “I’m sorry for everything. For scaring you, for kidnapping you, for trapping you here…” His voice was full of uneasiness, it melted John’s heart even more, “I don’t regret it though. If I hadn’t done it you wouldn’t be here with me. You wouldn’t have changed me. That’s what I feel, John. I feel changed. I feel in charge, but in a good way.”

   John looked up and smiled at the beautiful pale face that was peppered with red, “I forgive you. It’s like they say ‘there are evils that come to well’, and also that are always a light at the end of a dark long tunnel.” He took Sherlock’s hand and kissed it. John loved his long soft fingers.

   “Are those Harry Potter quotes too?” Sherlock teased.

   “Ha-ha. You should have realized by now that I have a good taste.” John pressed himself even more against Sherlock’s chest, closing his eyes.

  “Actually I find your taste quite terrible.” John could hear the smirk in Sherlock’s voice. But then his breathing changed a bit and John opened his eyes, “You can go, John. You can leave.”

  John pulled away a bit so he could sit facing Sherlock. The man looked sad, his eyes were down and his mouth had that declination on the corners that always made John’s heart to twirl in concern. “Haven’t you heard anything I’ve been saying to you? I don’t want to leave you, Sherlock. I want to be with you for as long as my life goes, and being a phoenix I understand that’s going to be a long long time”, John smiled softly and leaned his hand to touch Sherlock’s cheek, “You also changed me, love. For better. Thanks to you I know what I’m capable of, I know what I really am, and it’s invaluable.”

   Sherlock’s eyes wide and he reached to grab John’s free hand. “You called me ‘love’…”

  “For someone who doesn’t like repetitions that observation was boring, Sherlock. Yes, I called you love because that’s what you are. You are my love.” John got closer to kiss Sherlock gently on those plush pink lips, “I love you. Thought it was obvious, really.”

  “You’re sounding like me. Should I worry?” Sherlock smirked and suddenly grabbed John, shifting their bodies so John was found under Sherlock, pressed against the bed. “I’m glad you are not leaving without me, John, I’m not sure I could go on without my light.” Sherlock kissed John’s neck deeply, the boy couldn’t resist giving him a loud moan. “I love you, John.”

  They snogged for a while, the only sound in the room was their breaths and tongues dancing. John was the first to break the desperate kiss, “I want to leave this place though. I think we can come back to visit, so I can fly freely. But I wanna go to London, I need to see my family, I need to finish school”, John noticed Sherlock lowered his head, so the phoenix cupped his face so he was staring at those silver eyes again. “I also need you to be with me there. Will you?”

  “Of course I will. I will stay with you as long as you want my company.” Sherlock said offering John a shy smile.

  John answered him with a kiss.

 

\--

 

   John came back to a sad but less chaotic house. Only then he realized that he was away for two months. It seemed much more and much less. When he appeared at his house all he saw was tears and screams and hugs and slaps. The police was called, the principal, other relatives he didn’t know and doctors. The official version was that he was feeling oppressed and neglected by his family, therefore he ran away. His family accepted his emancipation then, the principal give him some time away, the doctors stopped bothering him when they realized he was better, and the police didn’t do much actually. All that time Sherlock stayed near, but only on John’s eyes.

    John’s parents asked for a divorce, which was the best thing really. His mother quit the pills, moved to a flat in downtown and found a good job, John could feel she had never been more free than in that moment; his father went to rehab, John went to visit him sometimes, he looked more lucid than John ever remembered; Harry got a girlfriend that lighted up her face and made her feel beautiful the way she was. That all happen during the six months after John came back. Things were good, not great, but going in that direction. John knew the lack of a certain dark shadow above them was helpful for the whole situation. But he also knew that there was always going to be darkness, with or without Sherlock. He used to be only one quarter of the entire shit. But as long as he and John were together they could fight it. They could send the clouds away.

 

   Sherlock’s hands were covering his eyes while they walked chest to back on the street, they might have seemed like two silly teenagers but they didn’t give a flying chicken about it. When both stopped in a certain spot John wasn’t sure, Sherlock’s deep and low voice spoke really next to his left ear, “Open your eyes for me, John.”

   When the smaller boy did he was faced with a dark green door Victorian style that had ‘221B’ written in old gold. John looked up at Sherlock who was beaming right back at him, “Home?”

   “Home”, the man said.

  When John gave his first steps inside the flat, the phoenix felt a great sense of warmth, but it wasn’t coming from him. He looked at Sherlock. All tall and lean, beautiful and mysterious. “You’re radiant”, John said with a grin from ear to ear.

   “What can I say? You’re the best conductor of light”, Sherlock said with a smile that mirrored John’s.

 

 

   It’s true that nothing is too bad that can’t get worse, but it also true that nothing is too good that can’t get better. John had known both things, and he was glad he did. After all life presents us with the worst moments, but at the same time it shows us what we can learn with it, and we can _always_ learn something with it if we really pay attention. Even some destructions and messes can turn to be a new way of organize things. And about the storms… Well, everyone knows what happens after them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaaaaand that's a wrap!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are very welcome (;


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